Why Don't We Do it in The Road?
by Verno Inferno
Summary: Sam's having nightmares about Andy and decides to pay him a visit. Sam/Andy. Title is a Beatles song. Enjoy.


For weeks, Sam had been having nightmares about Andy Gallagher. They weren't his usual nightmares, not detailed dreams of people meeting their demise. Rather, they were dreams of only Andy's face, distorted and pained, strangled cries erupting from his mouth. Sam couldn't make heads or tails of the dreams, and Dean refused to admit they meant anything supernatural, but it had Sam worried enough to drag his brother halfway across the country in search of Andy's shag wagon.

They found him not far from where they had left him, parked in some abandoned field in Guthrie. Dean, not wanting to be subject to Andy's gay porn mind games, opted to research more hunts, leaving Sam alone to knock on the back doors of Andy's gaudy van. The doors opened among a puff of smoke, the strong smell of weed permeating Sam's senses. When the smoke cleared, Andy came into view; the stubbly, bleary eyed face lighting up at the sight of Sam. "Hey dude! Long time no see, what's happening?"

"Hey, Andy. Um, this might sound a little weird, but long story short, I have a feeling something bad might happen to you. Can we go somewhere and talk?"

"Sure, dude. Hop in, we'll drive somewhere." Sam cringed internally, not wanting to be seen riding shotgun in Andy's hideous car. He got in reluctantly, directing Andy to drive them anywhere they could talk.

-:-

Getting information out of Andy proved to be harder than Sam had ever thought possible. He had taken the man everywhere; they'd already been kicked out the town's book store, a Starbucks, and were getting nasty glares from the waitress at the diner they were now holed up in. It was obvious to Sam that Andy wasn't paying attention to anything he had to say, rather opting to screw with the heads of the innocent families eating lunch around them.

"Andy, this is serious. I keep seeing you in pain, or dying, and all you can do is fuck with these people?"

"Oh, but Sam it's so much fun. Watch this," he grinned as he called over the waitress and mind gamed her into bringing them one of everything on the menu. She agreed without batting an eyelash.

"Are you really that hungry?" Sam asked, annoyed at Andy's lack of concentration on the task at hand.

Andy made a show of thinking Sam's question through, putting a finger to his chin and glancing upwards, mock concentration on his face. "No," he shook his head, "but I am that high." He winked across the table.

"Do you think you can clear your head for like, five minutes so we can figure out how I'm going to save your ass from whatever's going to happen to you?"

Andy huffed like a child. "Fine," he wined, grabbing two round coffee creamer packets and sticking them in front of his eyes, laughing hysterically as he imagined how he looked. Sam scoffed, annoyed, and Andy apologetically let the creamers pop out of his sockets. "Okay, totally serious," he said as he ran a hand over his face, smile disappearing, replaced with an intense glare in Sam's direction, "I'm ready."

"So, I've been having these dreams for weeks. And they're different from the premonitions I usually have. I don't see you die; I don't see what's attacking you. It's just your face, and you yelling like you're in pain. I don't understand it." Sam paused as the waitress placed platters of food in front of them and another waitress stood behind her with more.

When they were both done piling food on their table, Andy waved a half eaten sausage in Sam's direction. "Go on."

"I guess what I want to know is, have you pissed anyone off lately? So much that they'd want to hurt you?"

Andy chewed while he thought, shoveling food into his mouth as he recounted the past few days in his head. "Nope, haven't really talked to anyone in days. And I can't think of anyone around here who hates me enough to want to kill me. And hey, if someone was about to kill me, couldn't I just mind control them into not doing it? I mean, my brother used his power to kill people, so can't I do the opposite?" Andy's brain was running a mile a minute, and Sam stopped him before he choked on a pancake.

"Andy, all I'm saying, is I'm worried about you. I want to hang around here for a few days to make sure you'll be okay."

"That's cool, dude, we can hang out in my car."

That's not entirely what Sam had in mind, but he figured he'd humor Andy and nodded his agreement.

"Don't make me eat all this, man," Andy smiled as he shoved a short stack in Sam's direction.

-:-

When the majority of their food was gone and Andy had convinced the waitress he had already paid the bill, he and Sam drove the van back to its place in the vacant lot. Andy invited Sam into the back to begin their stakeout of whatever was after him.

There wasn't much to do in the car; Andy offered Sam a hit from his bong, which Sam refused, insisting he wanted his wits about him.

"Sorry I don't have shit for you to do, man," Andy sighed, leaning over to the front of the car to turn the radio on to alleviate the awkward silence they were sitting in. Sam assured him it was okay, and noticed Andy dozing against his front seats.

"You can sleep, dude, I'll wake you up if I need you," Sam told Andy, planning on sneaking out to find Dean later. He could watch over Andy from afar, and he'd probably write Sam off as a hallucination if he wasn't there when Andy woke up.

"Alright, Sam. Wake me up if anything weird happens." Andy moved so he was lying on his side on the shag rug and drifted off to sleep in seconds.

Sam thumbed through Andy's books for a while before he rendered himself bored beyond comprehension and decided to lay down himself. He told himself he'd just rest his eyes for five minutes and if Andy wasn't awake by then, he'd go find Dean.

Five minutes turned into an hour and a half nap. Sam woke up to the van rocking, and his first instinct was to panic. That was, until he felt the source of the rocking. Glancing to his right, he found Andy, who had turned himself towards Sam during their slumber. Andy had also managed to worm a leg around Sam's waist and was now rutting his hard-on against Sam's leg. Sam would have liked to say he was embarrassed, uncomfortable, but he was hard, too. He was mortified, however, that the movement was so intense that the van was visibly shaking.

"Andy, dude, wake up. Come on," Sam coaxed his friend out of his slumber, Andy looking up at him bleary-eyed. He wiped sleep from his eyes and looked down at the position they were in. He scrambled to find the words to apologize before Sam put up a hand to silence him. "Don't worry about it, it's fine."

"You know," Andy began, "this may be the drugs talking, but," he trailed a hand through Sam's hair, bringing his mouth close to his ear, "we're both here, we're both hard. What do you say we…" he trailed off, running his hand down Sam's body, looking into Sam's eyes for any hint of hesitation before popping the button fly on his jeans.

If word of this got out to anyone, Sam would blame his lack of hesitation on a serious contact high, or Andy's mind control actually working on him for once. But he couldn't kid himself; he liked Andy and in some part of his mind, he was hoping something like this would happen during his visit.

-:-

It came to Sam as he was searching for his pants, which were thrown somewhere in the direction of Andy's front seats. "Oh, Christ."

Andy chose to stifle the "Call me Andy" that was begging to escape his mouth, opting for a more appropriate, "What's up?" as he dragged his shirt back over his head.

"Has anyone ever told you that when you come you look like you're in pain?" Sam scrubbed a hand over his face, realizing that Andy was never in any danger to begin with.

"Are you telling me that your dreams about me haven't been death dreams? That you were dreaming about fucking me this whole time?" Andy found this hilarious, dropping to the floor and laughing out loud, tangling himself in his half on, half off t-shirt.

Embarrassed, Sam kicked lightly at Andy's flailing legs. "Shut up, dude! I didn't know, usually my dreams aren't about good things."

Andy stopped wriggling and stared up at Sam. "So I was good, huh?" He smirked, then suddenly became serious, "Now that there's nothing wrong here you guys are going to head out on another hunt?" It was somehow more of a statement than a question.

"You know what, Dean doesn't need to know that this hunt was a wash. We can bullshit him into believing something's going on here. Should buy us a few more days." Sam grinned down at Andy, who was suddenly beaming again.

They were interrupted by a loud knock on the car doors, followed by Dean's booming voice, "Hey, I'm starving, let's get some lunch."

Sam and Andy stared wide-eyed at each other, waiting for Dean to open the doors. When he just knocked again, louder, they sprung into action, righting their clothes and silently promising each other to keep the afternoon's events a secret.


End file.
